


Grandmothers

by Houseofhaleth



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fourth Age, Gen, Valinor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:45:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houseofhaleth/pseuds/Houseofhaleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Valinor, Elrond finally meets his grandmothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grandmothers

He found her in the shadow of Taniquetil, among the Vanyar.

  ‘Proud, stubborn, many still haunted by memories of a war in Middle Earth…why wouldn’t I feel at home among them?’ she says, dryly. Elrond smiles, slightly.

  ‘You…didn’t wish to stay with the Noldor, then?’

  ‘No, I do! I mean…’ her brow creased slightly, but more because she was searching for words than because she was troubled, he guessed. ‘I find I enjoy travelling around, now. The first time I left my home was…traumatic enough…that I was happy to stay in one place, for most of my time in Middle Earth. But now? There is a continent to see. And many different people. There are still new things here.’

  Her enthusiasm was somehow infectious. ‘Such as…?’

  Although she was his grandmother, Idril Celebrindal of Gondolin, there was something incredibly young in the way she said, ‘would you like to see?’

  ‘I would,’ he said. She grinned and took his hand.

*****

Nimloth, on the other hand, showed no desire to leave the woods where she’d settled. She reminded him of some of the wood elves who’d settled in Imladris – the way her head cocked to the side at birdsong, and she laughed suddenly. She didn’t want to talk about Middle Earth – in fact, she went still and silent when he mentioned it.

  But she took him into the forest, and pointed out the tallest trees, found the hidden waterfall, and pointed out the paths to the caves. The waterfall reminded him of Imladris, a little. It was good to remember – and also hard.

  She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. She showed him the way, if he ever wanted to come back. Then she pointed to the caves.

  ‘It’s why I only go there sometimes. Usually on my own.’

  They were silent for a time.

  ‘You look like your mother,’ she told him.

  ‘You look like her too,’ he replied, honestly. She brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear, the way she’d never been able to when he was young.

  ‘Come and visit me again?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course.’

*****

The second time he went to Nerdanel’s workshop, there was a new statue under a cloth. He politely didn’t say anything, as she was deliberately ignoring it – probably it wasn’t finished.

  They talked about many things – mostly things relevant to Valinor, as everything else was still quite painful for both of them. Finally Nerdanel stood, and he got up as well.

  ‘I won’t keep you from your work-’

  ‘It’s not that,’ she said. She pointed to a door. ‘In there, I keep all the people it…wouldn’t be good to have around all the time. I can’t think of them all the time. But…sometimes it’s good to do so. I know they’re not here with me – these are just statues, and sometimes seeing them cold and still is worse…but sometimes I miss their faces.’ Her eyes were soft and strong at the same time. ‘If you ever want to go in, just ask.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  They didn’t need to say any more – they understood. She waved a hand to the new sculpture. ‘By the way – it’s for you. You can keep it in there, if you want.’

  He looked at her, curiously. Turning to the statue, he reached up to pull the cloth away, half afraid of what he’d see…

  It was a perfect likeness. And it didn’t look in the least cold or still – he could have sworn the smile widened at the sight of him, the way it had so many times. How could she possibly have known, though?

  ‘How…?’ he turned around, but Nerdanel was gone, leaving him alone with – somehow – the shining figure of his daughter.


End file.
